Copyright (c) 2008 GoodMotorcycles.com
We all have our motorcycling dreams. The £50 CZ 250 twin was far from mine, more like a nightmare on wheels. But for fifty quid what can you buy? It was better to be back on the road than legging it everywhere. Even if I was the centre of ridicule and laughter. A CZ twin has the same credibility as a Honda Melody.
The first problem was obtaining an MOT. New swinging arm, wheel and steering head bearings were knocked in. The rotted silencers were thrown into the dense undergrowth that passed for next door's garden. They were so rotted they'd fallen off when I'd given them a good kick. As there weren't any stands I was able to convert the downpipe into a 2-1 on to which was welded an extra bit of pipe that exited into an RD250 expansion chamber. Quite!
The engine needed new points, new plugs and a carb clean out before it'd deign to start. There ain't much compression but the world's most awkward kickstart makes up for that. It was often easier to push-start, as the stripped down form must have weighed only 250lbs. The crackle out of the spannie was most rewarding, though the motor only worked between 2000 and 6500rpm!
The electrics were the final hurdle. The battery was as dubious as a Russian nuclear station and the wiring a mixture of black wires of different thickness, some off a car loom, the others household wires. The sole fuse was a nail. The engine ran but nothing else worked. A new battery, new wiring and used Jap switches solved most of the electrical problems long enough to get an MOT.
Riding back home with the lights on had the motor coughing away like a dog barking. The battery wasn't charging, the control box was dead but I found another bike for £20 with a seized engine. Old CZs are amazingly cheap. Once that was fitted, the rather meagre front lamp worked as best it could given the generator's minimal output.
The bike had quite wide cow-horns, but it was still a heavy slug to throw around despite the lack of mass. The bars and pegs were quite comfortable for town work. The seat was a massive refugee from something like a Gold Wing, was thus very comfortable. The seat was the only item not affected by the vibes, the bars and pegs buzzed as the revs rose until by the time 6500rpm was hit the bars were difficult to keep a hold of.
The two cylinder stroker was claimed to make 17hp but I found top speed was only 70mph. It was just as well it didn’t go any faster because the bike wandered all over the road as if the frame was bent! This was because the frame was in reality, after whipping off the tank, er, bent! The underside of the tank was also stained with rust.
A weekend was spent mixing and matching the two bikes' best parts to end up with one reasonable machine. The models were about five years apart but the engine lined up with the frame as if they were made on the same day. Probably a comment on the level of development put into these bikes.
With a straight frame, the handling wasn't half bad for an old Communist hack. Indeed, the chassis was good enough to handle their Rotax engined model. The suspension was so stiff that any lack of damping didn't really matter, the main limitation on bend swinging was the fixed footpegs grounding out, which tended to jerk the machine around. A wrench on the bars pulled her back on to line.
What was a little disturbing, was the way it'd react to the inevitable pot-holes in town. My arms and arse took a real battering and the front end was shaken way off line. A fearful wrestling match with the bars ensued on particularly rough sections of town tarmac. I found it was safer to ride as fast as the engine would allow, as the bike seemed better able to float over bumps.
This, however, was markedly dangerous for the simple reason that the ancient drum brakes were about as much use as wearing a cheap watch on the vibratory old heap. Okay, the shoes and linings were not far off being worn out but that didn't seem to excuse the excessive muscle needed before they started to grip even mildly. Many a time I was thankful for the demonic crackle of the expansion chamber, which at least warned cagers of my impending appearance. The horn had immediately expired after the MOT examiner had tested it. I didn't miss the pathetic squeak.
The best that could be said for the drum brakes was that they were so mild in action that they were fine on wet roads. Which was just as well because the Eastern European tyres had a special teflon coating that made them turn wet roads into ice-rinks. Judging by the way they refused to wear they were probably decades old, original equipment! One of the stranger aspects of the old rat was that it'd slide quite controllably, even taking to a bit of a countersteering without flopping over. It probably had fond memories genetically implanted in its steel frame of glory days carting around a sidecar. There was no way I'd fit a chair with the pathetic stock brakes!
There were some other hassles trying to use the bike as a mere commuter. The most prominent was the way the plugs would foul and the associated smokescreens. At one point it got so bad that some coughing cager rushed out of his car and started whacking the top of my helmet, screaming incoherent abuse. Before he busted my ancient lid, I let out the clutch and roared through the red light, leaving him eating my exhaust fumes. It's important to have plenty of oil going through the engine, otherwise the marginal main bearings will start knocking.
Spark plugs lasted less than 1000 miles. I always carried a spare set so that when the motor oiled up I could do a quick swap. Then I'd clean the old set-up at my leisure. This plug swap happened every day if I forgot to clean the motor out with frequent bursts of acceleration or about twice a week at best.
On one occasion I was so infuriated that I rushed a plug swap, ended up cross-threading the plug. It went down okay but on the last turn just kept turning around. Surprisingly, it got me home with just a bit of gas escaping past the plug's washer. The compression ratio was so low that it didn't really matter. There was no way I could extract the plug, even with the head off, but the head from the seized engine was useable after I'd cleaned off all the carbon. Decokes were regular, 500 mile events unless I was willing to tolerate a top speed of 30mph. It paid dividends to tweak the points at this mileage, which was about all the regular maintenance I had to do. The engine was easy to work on, seemed to have better quality alloy than the Japs. Whilst the motor was apart I put in a new set of rings as the old ones looked like they were about to crack up.
Fuel and oil were the only great expenses - 50mpg and 100mpp. Anything else that went was replaced with cheap stuff either from the breaker or from my spare bike. One of the curious aspects of riding around on the CZ was that quite a few people approached offering me their old, broken or crashed, bikes. I ended up with three of the damn things which I got for free, two 250 singles and one twin. All I had to do was turn up and push the things across town.
The singles both had wrecked main bearings, the twin had a piston crack up and subsequent crash damage when it'd run off the road. I had enough consumables to last me a lifetime, so I thought I might as well make another bike out of all the bits. A running 250 single engine was obtained for £25 and some cunning hammer work had the second bike on the road in just a weekend.
The single was freer revving, good for about 75mph but put out significantly more vibes at 60mph. No, I preferred the twin, sold the single off for £125 without any trouble. That inspired me to renovate the other two bikes, making about a hundred quid's profit on each occasion, not bad for a few days work. I started putting ads in newsagent's windows, picking up about half a dozen various models.
The neatest scam was putting 125 engines in the larger chassis, re-registering them and selling the bikes for about £200 a time. The 125 was dog slow but tough enough to learn on and could then be sold on again for a similar price. Everyone won. A lot of the bikes I bought had minor problems with the naff electrics that were cheap and easy to fix if you knew what you were doing. There are lots of bargains around.
Back to the 250 twin. They are very basic hack transport that costs next to nothing to buy and not much more to run. They need a bit of rider involvement to keep running and the motor's a bit agricultural. The chassis could take some Jap mill as a cheap project bike but for God's sake fit some proper brakes!
Alan Whitehaven
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27 years after becoming a cager
(stupidest thing I ever did) I saw a bike at a mate's that reminded
me of an old Jawa. It was a 12 year old CZ 250 single port stroker.
The Jawa was a twin port. He'd bought it cheap to hack about on,
and then bought a Honda 360 twin, so I gave him a 125 notes for
it, including crash helmet, new tyre, brake shoes, clutch and
MOT.
First thing I did was strip it right down and do a quick restoration, which was an easy job as it was in pretty good nick. The bore and piston had no wear with 8000 miles on the clock. Visual inspection of the rest confirmed new clutch and drive chain, no apparent problems either side of the crankcase. The chassis was sprayed bright yellow in the hope that it'd help the cagers see me.
I dumped the Austin in a scrapyard for £35 (they paid me...), which taxed the bike. Sale of the car battery and reclaimed tax insured it. Yippee! I was back on two wheels and all the old fun, thrills (and spills) came back.
The only problem was that despite being a puny 250cc single pot it kicked back like a demented rhinoceros. Moving the timing back from TDC (where it was) to the correct position had little effect. Eventually, it caught me off guard, gave me such a vicious kick that I had a serious hamstring injury.
After I was well enough to hobble about I got used to starting it on the left side with my right foot whilst holding the clutch in because it also had a habit of jumping out of neutral and taking off on its own!
I mastered its anti-social habits, started to enjoy myself. I dared revisit old haunts in South London, like the Ace Cafe and Tolworth bypass. Great memories until there was an incredible rattle and crunch. The bike came to a sudden stop and threw me over the top. Right in the middle of the Tower Bridge rush hour. The bloody clutch had come right off the shaft and jammed in the drive sprocket.
I had to leave the bike around the back of Whitechapel nick whilst my mate brought me back on his Honda after we arranged transport to get it home. An easy fix, because it was just some silly bugger forgetting to put the special locking washer on the plate housing. Serve me right, I should've stripped the engine as well.
I was soon back on the road, looking for bits to tart it up. I found some good alloy rims but couldn't find any CZ decals; thought it'd be a laugh to make a Skoda motorcycle. I went to the local importers, Motokov, to buy a couple of plastic car badges that'd fit nicely in the blank hollow on each side of the tank. I didn't buy the badges but met a bloke with lots of common interests who's since become one of my best mates and had something to sell that made my mouth water...An old Jawa 350.
Once again I parted with a hundred notes for a bike, but this time it was a rusting box of bits that was 27 years old and had been stored for the last ten years because he never got around to restoring it himself. But there was a crate full of brand new spares he'd accumulated because he worked at Motokov, who also import Jawa motorcycles.
It was a Type 360, same as the one I'd owned way back. I found some odd things about it, though. Seems to have come from Turkey before going on the road in the UK, and the rider must've been a midget, for the footrests had been adapted to rise them up four inches.
This time I went to town with the restoration, and it was bloody hard work. The rust had really eaten into the mudguards and panels, but I kept at it and eventually had it all shining in my favourite shade of yellow. Back in one lump, it looked really good, bringing back many memories as I worked on it and haunted local scrappies for bits and bobs.
What surprised me (should it have done?) was the acres of knackered and crashed nearly new Jap machines; a fair amount of CZ's and MZ's but no sign of any Jawa's.
The worst job was the speedo in the headlamp, a weirdly shaped dial that's irreplaceable and reads backwards to normal. It didn't have the valanced front mudguard that I remembered - I'm still looking for one. The wheels were another serious problem. The originals were sixteen inchers but I had to fit a set of eighteen inchers, which meant hacking off the bottom of the rear mudguard, fixing it on the swinging arm instead of through it. There was barely enough clearance between the frame and wheel when it was fitted. I wasn't bothered about gearing because I'm still the same eight stone weakling I've always been, and the Jawa's, anyway, better at torque than revs.
The electrics I still have to sort out. Maybe convert to 12V if I find out how, because though I've replaced the main bulb with 38 watts instead of the 26 originally fitted, and upped all the others, I'm now trying to extract 60 watts out of a 45 watt dynamo. In the old days, when everyone had six volts, we all got along nicely. Now the puny systems of yesteryear have to cope with double-spotted pairs of 12V super-psyched up quartz halogen lights; cagers with itchy fingers on the firing button.
I started the bike up for the first time in over ten years, fired up with the first gentle prod of my damaged leg. But hell's bells - I didn't remember all that blooming clattering. It was all coming from the top end, sounded like an old A10 with the tappets about to drop off. Several blokes who'd had 'em said it was normal, even new ones did it, but I only remembered that mine ran as quietly and smoothly as a Singer sewing machine. I had fitted oversized rings, so took the barrels off again to check I hadn't busted any. They were okay, so I rode it around for a while and let it settle down before checking it out again. It got worse!
Before I could investigate properly I had to do a charity run with the local gang of BMF riders. We met up at a Little Chef and garage on the A17/47 roundabout between West Lynn and King's Lynn. Everyone arrived with pockets and panniers stuffed with goodies for the Lord Mayor's Xmas appeal. The first comment I got was when a burly great rocker called out to his mates. ''Cor, look at this. Oh, ain't it nice, it's just a puppet!'' This was followed by two of the Traffic Bill who commented, ''That yellow peril we keep seeing in town has turned up!''
I stripped the engine down as soon as that event was out of the way - remembering the odd barrels and pistons I'd noticed as I assembled the motor, and by this time the bike was sounding more like a steam-roller that'd been assembled finger tight rather than with spanners.
I was sure that I'd kept the same set of piston and barrels together, but on assembly found that an ''X'' piston with a ''Y'' barrel, and vice-versa. Must be me, I thought, and put them the right way around. Wrong! When I stripped right down again I found serious piston slap and well worn oval little ends. I figured they'd been done X to Y in the first place and nothing left for it but rebore and new pistons. A pal had a pair of sixty thou third bore pistons and rings but they were from the later model with a roller bearing little end, so the gudgeon pins were 1mm too big.
No problem. Plenty of meat on the phosphor bronze bushes, so reamed 'em out to suit. I've got bulging arms after that little session. The bloke who looks after King's Lynn speedway bikes bored the barrels for me and did a spanking job - the pistons slid down the bores very silkily. Reassembly was a piece of clockwork cake, and she started first time - merely by pressing the kickstart down by hand!
The difference was amazing, the smooth even burble I remembered from my misspent past. There was still a slight tinkle from both heads, though, and noting hard rubber strips inserted between the fins on the CZ, I experimentally cupped the cylinder head in my hands. The tinkling disappeared entirely, it was merely noise transmission. She was so quiet now I could hear the pistons slurping up and down like a pair of miniature Panther 600's. Packing hard rubber washers between the fins removed the tinkling.
Now, going by the book, it's 4000 miles of careful running in, as quiet and smooth as I remember back in the sixties. I intend to go to the Jawa factory in the Czech republic to scrounge as many spares as I can on my way to Romania to look up old pals. After reading about the possible demise of all four strokes by the turn of the century, I hope to be able to persuade one of the longest established stroker manufacturers left to get stuck in before Honda and Ford scoop the market.
Joseph Hemmings
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for Eastern Euro Bikes
It was love at first sight! The CZ stood there resplendent in its sort of silver grey with metalflake bits. Compared to my 65000 mile CZ 350 rat bike it had style. A quick test ride confirmed that nothing was untoward with the engine and money changed hands. He needed the dosh for tyres for his FJ1200 and so had decided to sell his commuter bike.
I was now the owner of a CZ 350 Custom Mk.3. Power output of 22hp at the rear wheel and 34ftlb of torque, with only 8000 miles on the clock and still with an unblemished fairing and GRP stream-lining bits. An MOT was due on the bike so I set to work on improving the front brake with a set of Ferodo AM4 linings.
While I was at it I also decoked the exhausts by removing them and burning out the old oil/petrol mix until the exhaust glowed nicely. As usual the baffles were in the wrong way round. Why do people put the hole at the front when it should go at the back? This slight error reduces top speed from 85mph to 70mph in one go.
I quick blat down the local bypass showed that the top speed had gone from an indicated 76mph to 89mph. CZ speedo's always show 2-3mph less than the actual speed. This I've had confirmed by those people who drive cars with flashing blue lights on top. All the indicators had been removed though all the connections were still there. I decided not to fit any indicators and it passed the MOT.
Within a week I was bored shitless by the lack of top end speed, though the acceleration was no disappointment and could see off CB400N's, and the like, easily. During one weekend I set about removing the engine restrictors in the air box - I cut off the nozzles on top of the air box cover thus bypassing the intake silencer/restrictor under the saddle - removed all of the blotting paper like material from the air filter and replaced it with foam sprayed with K and N filter oil (I could have as easily fitted a K and N filter) and removed the first stanchion ring in the silencer end caps on both exhausts. Only a slight adjustment of the pilot jet screw and needle position was necessary.
The bike did an indicated 101mph when tucked in behind the bikini fairing and the acceleration was transformed. Second gear wheelies were also possible, usually at really inopportune moments such as going for a gap in traffic. The stock Barum tyres were totally lethal and unable to cope with the increase in torque from the engine. They also made banking over on the throttle a knicker staining experience. Metz's were much better and last okay (rear, 8000 miles; front, much more).
One of the more eventful times was a trip to Braintree where the plan was to do a Saturday morning run to London to join in with the leg protector demonstration. The motorway run was quick at 80-85mph but the M25 was full of cagers having picnics on their car bonnets - I nearly ran a few of them over.
Friday night was spent in the Red Cow pub drinking, taking the piss out of MZ riders, etc. One MZ300 owner was bragging about the superiority of his machine...It was obvious his eyesight was lacking, perhaps with the level of self abuse he was indulging he should've considered buying an LC, as they all tend to be wankers as well. Next morning on the A12, the MZ rider was blurred with the vibration at 90mph and was left to eat my pollution at 95mph - he didn't speak to me again.
The demo was a sight to behold, with bikes as far as the eye could see, sort of reminiscent of the great African Plains with all the herds of wildebeests, water buffalo, zebras, etc. Getting out of London was no problem and only took 20 minutes via the numerous roads that run parallel with the Thames. We seemed to have several other bikes following us, obviously assuming that I knew where I was going.
Once on the M11 we were safe from the worst drivers in Britain. It's amazing that there isn't any traffic on the M11 in between rush hours, not even police vehicles. After a while we spotted another couple of bikes travelling at fuel conserving velocities (ie 50mph). An RG250 and NS400, who were passed at 55mph. They then passed at 65mph. Then the CZ was in warp drive. 105mph! The engine was running like it was only doing 60mph and seemed quite happy.
A quick twist on the throttle revealed that I wasn't quite flat out yet. Something must be wrong. Sure enough, the right-hand header pipe was just about to fall off, so it was panic, slow and hit the hard shoulder for repair.
Now I subscribe to the gremlins school of motorcycle physics. Every motorcycle or any other piece of machinery has a certain number of gremlins living in it. On Jap bikes they are held in check until 20,000 miles comes up and you all know what happens next. On other makes they all man certain posts. Such as the one that makes the neutral light not work, the one that makes the chain loose, the one that makes the footrest fall off, etc. You get the picture?
Now, major mechanical disasters like an engine blow up require the combined effort of all the gremlins in the bike. Hence, why bikes only blow up when they are going better than you've ever known before...The next time your motorcycle's running exceptionally well, panic!
After fixing the exhaust, I had to battle against gale force winds, only able to get 80-85mph and 50mpg out of the thing. If I ducked behind the bikini fairing 90mph was possible but the displaced air swirled over the small of my back. A lot of bikes are worse off because they can't match the CZ's torque - so there!
I used the bike until it reached 34000 miles, when on the way to another Jawa/CZ rally in Swindon there was the problem of the top gear locking in when going up hill. This rapidly deteriorated into not staying in top gear on the level when under power, then no top gear. The engine wasn't making any unusual noises at the time and all the other gears worked okay.
As Swindon was only ten miles away this was no great problem, but, boy, ain't the world a big place when you're stuck in a low gear. The return trip was a real pain as I was stuck behind a caravan - on the straights he could leave me behind but in the twisty bits he was only doing 20mph. In the end, someone overtook and blocked him so I could pass.
On returning home, the gearbox turned out to have chewed up a gear selector fork which only took an hour to change, especially as it's not necessary to change/remove the oil when working on a Jawa or CZ gearbox. After fitting the £2 part the bike was happy for another year until the fateful day in Newbury at 5am when the top gear went completely and the crankcases started to lose the oil in a big way.
I limped into Newbury at 18mph, flat out in third gear. Phoned the RAC and waited for four hours for the recovery service. Once home I dumped all my equipment on to my Canadian import Suzuki GT550A and went on that. The bastard thing broke down when I arrived there as well. It was a bad day.
Another bad point was the way the tail kept falling off the back of the saddle. The standard brakes and tyres weren't up to the performance. Neither was the ground clearance - not even with GS1000 shocks, which are three inches longer than stock. A lot of this could be due to the fact that you can lean a CZ over a lot more than a Japanese machine. I once decked an X7 trying to pull a CZ style turn. The Lucas indicators are also poor.
The good points include 67mpg at 80-85mph, the fairing, big bike gear ratios and gear speeds (Ist: 0-34mph; 2nd: 34-56mph; 3rd: 56-75mph; 4th: 75-103mph when derestricted), big bike engine torque though not the speed, the toolkit, cushdrive rear wheel and the ability to out-scratch old Jap bikes.
Plus, they're cheap to buy and insure - no-one wants to joy ride or nick them. Unless they are an MZ or Cossack rider wanting to move up in the biking world...
Andy Reid
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For some bizarre reason that defies logic I have always considered a simple, easy to maintain, 500cc single to be the ideal every-day hack. After all, with only one of everything there ain't much to go wrong and if it does putting it right should be fairly cheap. Unfortunately, this usually involves buying some kind of hideously brutal Brit from the early sixties that costs a bloody fortune, needs an extensive and expensive rebuild and at least a grand's worth of modifications just to get to the corner shop and back.
Of course, there's always the Japs but they look bloody awful with the exception of Yamaha's SR500 but that's so hideously unreliable that you might as well go for a Brit and have the real thing. I must confess, that even though they look ridiculous, I was briefly tempted by Honda's XBR500 but one ride on that top heavy beast was enough to cure me!
Eventually, by pure accident, I came across the ideal machine. Neither Brit nor Jap, a Jawa 500R with only six grand on the clock for a mere 250 notes. It had been in a head-on collision with a Soviet tank or something similar (Volvo) but the frame and clocks wouldn't cost too much and a new rim could be laced around the existing wheel hub.
After all, it's the engine that these bikes are all about. A 494cc OHC four valve built in unit with a five speed box. A gear driven balance shaft takes care of the vibes and all the bearings are caged rollers, so engine life is good. This Rotax engine is made in Austria, of all places, and fitted into the Jawa 350 chassis in the UK. Jawas may on the whole have a bad reputation but this engine is used by the British forces and a host of motocross riders. Capable of around 50hp, in 32hp Jawa spec it should be a reliable workhorse for at least 50 grand.
Finding a good used front end proved impossible and embarrassing as nobody seemed to believe that anyone could possibly want secondhand parts for those old things. Most breakers said they wouldn't even bother to keep the parts. I put plan B into action and bought a complete Jawa 350 for a mere £75. It was just a matter of bolting on the decent bits with only the usual skinned knuckles.
Starting was an effortless two kick affair as the kickstarter lifts an exhaust valve. Just as well, really, as there isn't an electric start and the compression ratio's a hefty 9:2. My first ride lasted a mere two minutes.....the bloody frame was bent. £45 sorted that out and for a total outlay of £375 I had a low mileage, two year old bike.
First impressions were a bit of a disappointment. My last big single had been a Brit with plenty of low down grunt and the 500R felt gutless in comparison. It does have some bottom end plonk and will pull well from 2500rpm in all but top gear, but it's just not the same as something like BSA's B44 where the power comes in at zero revs accompanied by a very meaty exhaust roar. The Jawa is quiet and civilised and the balance shaft is so effective that it gives a very remote ride, feeling more like something from Japan than a traditional old time thumper from this fair isle.
My initial disappointment began to wane as I made better use of the gearbox and the revs. Revving out to eight grand in the first three gears provides plenty of smiles per mile. It's no LC beater but does perform well in town and out in the sticks. Motorways can be a bit of a chore as top gear's a tad too high, so a couple of down changes are needed for really swift overtaking. It will cruise along all day at 75-80mph, which ain't bad for a bike with a 95mph top speed.
Handling is fine at the expense of comfort, both front and rear suspension very firm in an almost Italian way, whilst the frame could handle twice the power. The front brake may only be an archaic TLS drum (although there is a disc option available) but once fitted with Ferodo linings it's positive with plenty of feel. The rear drum was perfectly adequate if a little wooden in action.
Maintenance is straightforward with electronic ignition and locknut valve adjustment (although I didn't see the point in having four valves). The real pain is changing the engine oil. Just like old Brits it's kept in a separate tank (it appears to be the old two stroke oil tank from the days when Jawas had Posilube systems) but unfortunately to drain the oil it's necessary to remove the oil pipes which lets the oil run over the bike until you get a bowl under it, which you then have to hold until all the oil runs out. The cam is belt driven, the belt easily accessible from under its cover on the left-hand side of the cylinder.
The worst thing about the bike is the styling. Absolutely piss poor. It doesn't even look functional and tough. The knee pads look like the insides of a cheap pram and the blue paint scheme would look better on something made by Triang. A cockpit fairing was fitted but it looks awful and is totally useless so I chucked it away. Likewise the indicators.
Riding though the winter usually shows up any serious faults on most bikes and I quickly found the original Barum tyres to be sadly lacking in the grip department. £48 later and a set of Avons sorted that out.
Basically, it fulfilled its role as an every day hack with little hassle. When I sold it with 18 grand on the clock it didn't burn or leak oil so the engine seems tough enough. The overall finish seems to last well with the exception of the exhaust pipes which were beginning to rust. The lights were adequate up to about 65mph but any more was tempting fate. I suppose a Cibie conversion would brighten things up a bit.
The worst thing about the 500R is the fact that it bears the legend Jawa. This seems to be the cause of great mirth amongst other bikers, except those owning Jawas who have nothing better to do than stand around discussing the effects of Perestroika on the performance of their smoking 350s. Personally, I preferred having the piss taken out of me than listening to fanatical Jawa fans. Boring old gits!
I did once meet another Rotax powered bike and owner, but his was a British built Harris Matchless affair which was sadly rusting away after only six months use. The owner was in his immaculate Barbour gear with pudding basin helmet and Biggles goggles. I tried to escape but he collared me before I'd got the centrestand down. He went on for ages about his hand built classic. After I told him how much the Jawa had cost me he looked a bit sick but went on to tell me how his engine was in a higher state of tune and capable of pushing the Matchless to 115mph. What a shithead, the engines are all but identical.
Two days later I was lucky enough to see him coming towards me. A quick U-turn and nine grand on the tacho made him look foolish. When he eventually caught me up after I stopped for a fag, I let him take the lead but he obviously didn't want to play so I cut him up viciously at the next roundabout and gave him the V sign. Next time I saw him he was on a Tiger Cub; poor sod!
The only bits to wear out during the 12000 miles I owned the bike were the rear tyre after ten grand and the chain after 9000 miles. Petrol consumption was around 60mpg, which is ridiculous as 1930's Nortons had better performance and did 80 to a gallon.
On long distances (as in to the South of France) it was just about adequate but I did fit a Tripoint screen to keep the wind blast off as the seating position's very much the old style sit up and beg. Reliability was 100% and even the chain stayed in adjustment until I got home.
Eventually, I just got bored with the bike, It was just too sensible and 15mph too slow, so I sold it at a fair profit. These days, a few are coming on to the market at about the £700 mark which for what they are is quite cheap, although for the same money you can get an awful lot of competent Jap fours that'll go a lot faster. The Jawa is probably a good long term hack for the older rider who wants to keep things simple.
Andy Everett